Chapter 133 The Longest Forty-Eight Hours

Chapter 133 The Longest Forty-Eight Hours
The flight into Mexico was conducted under identities that did not exist. By the time Marco and the eight De Luca operatives landed, they were no longer Italian businessmen or tourists.

They had become ghosts. Ghosts left no immigration trail. Ghosts paid in cash. Ghosts rented vehicles through intermediaries who would never remember their faces.

By sunset, the team had reached a secure farmhouse nearly twenty kilometers from the Veracruz compound. The building had belonged to one of the De Luca family's dormant assets for almost fifteen years. Nothing connected it to Italy. Nothing connected it to Alessandro. That was precisely why it had survived unnoticed.

Marco stood before a weathered wooden table where aerial photographs had been spread out. His men gathered around him. Luca's voice came through an encrypted satellite connection. "The latest surveillance confirms no change in the guard rotation." Marco nodded. "Thermal signatures?"
"Thirty-eight." Marco frowned. "Yesterday there were thirty-seven."

"There is one additional heat signature." Luca enlarged the image on Marco's tablet. "The newcomer arrived three hours ago." Marco studied the figure moving through the underground level. "Bodyguard?"
"We don't think so."
"What then?"
Luca paused. "Our analysts believe he's an evaluator."

Marco's eyes narrowed. The word carried unpleasant implications. Evaluators decided which children went where. Which were worth additional investment. Which became disposable. His jaw tightened. "Then we take him alive."

Back at the safe house, Alessandro sat beside Lia during breakfast. She picked at her food more than she ate it. He noticed. Matteo noticed. Even Grandfather De Luca noticed. The doctor folded his newspaper. "You'll make me very unpopular." Lia blinked. "What did I do?"
"You've eaten four bites."

She smiled apologetically. "I'm trying." Matteo looked toward Alessandro. "Tell your wife." Alessandro calmly slid another piece of toast onto her plate. "Finish breakfast." She gave him an exaggerated look of betrayal. "So you're joining him."
"I am."
Grandfather De Luca chuckled into his coffee. "The poor girl never stood a chance."

Lia laughed despite herself. Some of the tension dissolved. It didn't disappear completely. She knew where Marco was. She knew what tomorrow night meant. Every hour felt longer than the last.

Meanwhile, inside the Veracruz compound, Instructor Helena entered Classroom Three carrying a stack of folders. The children immediately straightened in their seats. Silence settled over the room. She began reading names. One after another. Each child stood, collected a folder and sat back down.

When she finished, twelve folders remained. She closed the stack. "You twelve." No one moved. "You leave tomorrow." Several of the younger children exchanged frightened glances. Leaving rarely meant something good. One little boy slowly raised his hand. "When do we come back?" Helena looked at him without expression. "You don't."

The answer extinguished the tiny hope in his eyes. At the back of the room, the sixteen-year-old boy watched everything carefully. His name inside the compound was Daniel. It wasn't his real name. He no longer remembered his real one. But he remembered enough. Enough to know that children who left never returned. Enough to know that tomorrow represented their last chance.

Night settled over the Mexican countryside. Marco lay concealed on a rocky ridge overlooking the estate through a high-powered scope. One by one, his team reported in. "North position ready."
"West approach ready."
"Southern observation ready." The eighth and final voice sounded through his earpiece. "Tunnel entrance confirmed."

Marco lowered the scope. The compound appeared peaceful. Almost respectable. A wealthy countryside estate. Gardens, stone walls and warm lights glowing through elegant windows. Anyone driving past would have admired its beauty. They would never have imagined what existed beneath it.

Marco quietly activated his microphone. "Luca."
"I'm here."
"I've got eyes on the children's dormitory."
Luca answered immediately. "Thermal confirms twenty-three occupants." Marco remained silent for several moments. Then spoke quietly. "They're smaller than I expected."

The sentence lingered. Because no satellite image could prepare a man for seeing children trapped behind walls. Luca understood. "So did Lia." Marco closed his eyes briefly. The blue ribbon rested safely inside his tactical vest. He touched it unconsciously. Then opened his eyes again.
"Not for much longer."

At almost the same moment, Lia awoke suddenly. She sat upright in bed, breathing hard. Alessandro immediately switched on the bedside lamp. "What happened?" She looked around the room. Disoriented. "It wasn't a nightmare." Her voice trembled. "It felt..." She struggled to explain. "...like someone was calling for help."

Alessandro gently took her hands. The doctor had warned him that recovering memories could blend dreams with reality. "Do you remember anything?" She closed her eyes. Only one image remained. A frightened little girl clutching a worn stuffed rabbit. Standing beside a locked iron door.bWaiting.

Lia opened her eyes again. "There was a rabbit."
"A rabbit?"
She nodded slowly. "And..." Her breathing caught. "There was a song." Without thinking, she began humming. The melody was soft and simple. It was a lullaby.

Anton, who had been passing the hallway outside, stopped instantly. His face drained of color. He slowly opened the bedroom door. "Lia..." She looked up. "What is it?" His eyes had already filled with tears. "Tatiana used to sing that." The room became perfectly still. Anton swallowed hard. "But not to you."

Lia frowned. "What do you mean?" He struggled to steady his voice. "She sang it..."
He looked directly at Alessandro before returning his gaze to Lia. "...to all the children she rescued before they were separated." A silence heavier than grief settled over the room. Because that lullaby had never belonged to one child. It had belonged to many.

Which meant somewhere inside Lia's fractured memories lived the faces of children the traffickers had believed the world had forgotten. And tomorrow night, while Marco prepared to storm the compound, those forgotten children would unknowingly become the heart of a war far greater than any of them had ever imagined.